


Entirely Complementary

by agapi42



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, First Meeting, Gen, Hackle Summer Trope Challenge, In which Agatha's meanness backfires again, Letters, They're just so perfect together, Where is the line between friendship and romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15049532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agapi42/pseuds/agapi42
Summary: Hecate revisits the past, Ada clears up a mystery and then they have tea.





	Entirely Complementary

The bundle of letters fell from her topmost shelf as Hecate removed the tome she was looking for. Levitating them back up with a wave of her hand, she was about to replace them when curiosity won out. Placing the book to one side, Hecate unfolded the topmost letter and read:

_Dear Miss Hardbroom,_

_As a spell science teacher, I read with great interest your recent article on core magical literacies and the wider relevance that skills traditionally associated with potion brewing can have to the curriculum as a whole._

It was a considered beginning and clearly written long before the rest of the letter, given the different shade of ink used below.

_I have always felt that spell science and potions are entirely complementary disciplines. Of course all aspects of magic play their part but these two, to my mind, are at the core of practising magic. A carefully brewed potion and a well crafted spell are but two sides of a coin, two halves of a whole and indeed for many spells they are._

Here the handwriting got markedly worse, as if written in a great hurry.

_I eagerly anticipate your no doubt stupendous presentation at the upcoming WAN conference and, should you be able to spare the time, would love to discuss your ideas in very great detail._

_A. Cackle_

 

The letter had arrived after Hecate had already departed for the conference, in the course of which an acquaintance had introduced her to a Miss Ada Cackle. Their conversation had been... engaging. She had seemed intelligent, perspicacious, if a little too personable in ways that normally made Hecate uncomfortable. Usually others seeming friendly and comfortable in their surroundings just magnified her own awkwardness. Miss Cackle, though, had seemed almost to treat her as an equal (without an _ounce_ of that damnable pity that seemed to colour every interaction with another person). All the more remarkable in hindsight, once she’d belatedly recognised the name: it had taken her far too long, given that they were attending the Witching Academy Network conference.

And then there was this letter. Had she read it first, she would have formed a far different impression. Firstly, the article to which Miss Cackle referred was almost a year old, which to Hecate’s mind made the word ‘recent’ inapplicable. Secondly, it was markedly uneven, the end being cloying, even overblown to the point of sarcasm. Nothing like the witch she had met. While Hecate was well aware that people were not always as they seemed, why send such a letter then present a different face? The word that came immediately to her unwilling mind when thinking of Miss Ada Cackle was balance. She seemed well-balanced and this letter tugged at her, disordered her. The problem intrigued Hecate, and, niggling, kept Miss Cackle uppermost in her mind. While their conversation had been enlightening, normally Hecate kept her communication to that which was absolutely necessary, which didn’t include acquaintances of a single meeting, no matter how pleasant. But there was a puzzle to solve here and it was that, she told herself, which eventually drove her to write back, the first link in what became a long chain of correspondence binding them together.

_Dear Miss Cackle,_

_When we spoke at the recent WAN conference, you were kind enough to express an interest in my forthcoming article and asked that I might let you know when it was published. In light of this, I enclose a review copy. I hope you will forgive this liberty._

_Sincerely,_

_H. Hardbroom_

The reply was written on the same sheet.

_Dear Miss Hardbroom,_

_Thank you very much for providing your article, which I found both interesting and enjoyable. Your assertion that—_

 

“What are you reading, dear?” Ada, come to dig her out of whatever research hole she’d found herself in.

Hecate raised her head. She’d almost forgotten the first letter, Ada’s words and actions outweighing it so heavily as to allow for it to be dismissed as a statistical blip. Ada Cackle was stable and safe and secure, an even keel in a life that hadn’t always been smooth. She was trusting and caring, never demanding, never asking for more than Hecate was willing to give. She rambled on occasion but it was always charming and she was never less than professional in situations that demanded it.

Sending the rest of the bundle back to the shelf, Hecate held the first letter out and watched as Ada’s face fell as she read it, the paper creasing between her finger and thumb.

“Oh.” Ada swallowed. “I suppose an apology is long overdue.”

“I don’t see why--” Hecate started, hating to see Ada uncomfortable.

“It was Agatha,” Ada continued, uncharacteristically interrupting, as if she hadn’t heard. Her words tumbled over themselves as her gaze flicked around the room, looking anywhere but at Hecate. “I had, ah, admired your work for some time and she knew that, though I had never communicated that to you. The letter had sat on my desk for months and I had given up on ever sending it, just scribbled down some silly thoughts and then, when I started talking about your presentation at the conference, Agatha apparently thought it would be funny to finish it and send it. She told me what she’d done when I got back and I was mortified. Never mind what you thought of me, think of the reputation of the school! Of course she didn’t care, she never did, I should have seen that a lot earlier. She just wanted to embarrass me. I doubt she even cared enough to remember: I certainly don’t think she ever connected it with you. Then you wrote back and I was so pleased and I thought I could make things better...”

Ada’s rambling was always charming but sometimes she had to be stopped from spiralling. Hecate wrapped her fingers around Ada’s wrist and the older witch fell silent.

“You did,” Hecate said and her chest hurt from how much she meant it. “You always do. It’s one of your more remarkable gifts.”

Meeting her eyes, Hecate hoped Ada could see how sincere she was.

“Besides,” Hecate continued seriously, lacing her tone in a way only Ada could detect, “I quite agree. Potions and spell science are the integral core of magic: the rest is just frippery.”

Ada huffed a laugh. Her eyes shone. “ _Hecate_.”

“Shall we discuss how to break the news to the staff over tea?” With a wave of her hand, her silver tea set stood ready, the teapot steaming next to a plate of Ada’s favourite accompanying comestibles.  “The timetable for next year will need to be entirely rewritten, of course.”

Pursing her lips mock-seriously, Ada nodded. “I think that might need at least three cups.”

Taking tea together was a ritual as familiar as breathing, as easy as shaping her magic by her will. Hecate settled back in her chair, watching over the rim of her cup as Ada selected a cake, the warmth spreading through her unrelated to the heat of the drink.

Entirely complementary. Two sides of a coin. Two halves of a whole. She quite agreed.

 


End file.
